


you will.

by MagitekUnit05953234



Series: ophiuchus [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canonical Self Harm, Drabble, Experimental Style, Intrusive Thoughts, Mental Illness, Mentioned Ardyn Izunia, Mentioned Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Mentioned Noctis Lucis Caelum, Suicidal Thoughts, intentionally bad grammar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 00:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21027428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagitekUnit05953234/pseuds/MagitekUnit05953234
Summary: He’ll know what it means, someday. The tattoo, the urges, the anxieties. Now he does not.





	you will.

**Author's Note:**

> Rated high for clumsy handling of serious content.  
I've had intrusive thoughts since I was very young. I never ever ever act on them, but they're there. Not impulses, simply unwanted and inexplicable bad thoughts that occur often and at random.  
This is a snippet of that, I guess.  
I'm 100% fine so don't worry lol  
Just throwing spaghetti at the wall, writing wise.

Prompto checks the news every day. 

He spends a cut of his meager paycheck on a physical paper too, just in case the websites and the daily coverage don’t cover everything. 

Another jogger found dead near the outskirts of the city. He had nothing to do with it. He’s never even been to that part of town before. And yet. Yet

_ Did I? _ He consumes the news with fear and relief every morning.  _ Will I? _

He’ll know what it means, someday. The tattoo, the urges, the anxieties. Now he does not. 

_ Kill him _ , Prompto finds himself thinking the first day he eats lunch with Noct. He puts his fork down and decides to only bring finger food to school from now on. 

_ Did I? _ Prompto shakes that night, running the fingers of one hand over the knuckles of the other.  _ Will I? _

_ Push her _ , Prompto swallows thickly and tightens his grip on the railing before him, trying not to make eye contact with the stranger admiring the overlook's view of Duscae beside him. She looks happy. If she meets his eyes, she’ll know what he was thinking. What he wanted didn’t want wanted didn’t want wanted to do. 

Prompto takes to avoiding high places. 

_ Did I? _ He can’t avoid going there when Noct does, to meet with some man of no consequence. Prompto stares over the dizzying drop and can almost see a red splotch on the ground far below.  _ Will I? _

_ Jump _ , the battered city has seen enough death to fill Prompto’s dreams for a decade. He presses the back of his hand to his mouth as his stomach roils. They’re still looking for Luna’s body. That’s his fault, somehow. It always is. He, of course he, he of course of of of

_ Did I? _ Prompto can’t give Noct someone else to mourn. He shakes at the thought of disappearing for good.  _ Will I? _

He’s gone in three weeks’ time anyway. 

_ You did, _ he thinks as he reaches into the coals of his campfire.  _ You did you did you did you monster. Finally. You did.  _

“I did,” Prompto murmurs, skin beading sweat from the head radiating from the smoldering stick clenched in his hand. “I killed him. I… should…”

_ Will I? _

He can’t move. He’s suspended by his wrists and all he has is his thoughts when Ardyn isn’t… keeping him company. 

_ You deserve this. You asked for this. You wanted it to happen. You did. You did.  _ Prompto tugs at the restraints and winced as he irritates the half-hearted burn on his right wrist.  _ You did. And you will again. _

“Stop,” Prompto says to no one. “Just stop.”

_ Stab him, _ when he holds a knife. 

_ Punch her, _ when he gets too close. 

_ Shoot them _ , when he summons his gun. 

_ Die, _ when he dares to forget —for just a moment— what he's worth. 

“Just let me live,” Prompto pleads, one dark night in a city that hasn't seen the sun in years.

_ No.  _


End file.
